Enigma Girl
by Lucadina
Summary: 'I want to learn how to talk to girls,' he pauses when she fails to react, which he takes as permission to confess, 'I want to learn how to talk to you.' Eren x Annie
1. Teeth

Annie Leonhart is an enigma.

Eren can never tell what's on her mind. He assumes, however, that there is a an albatross of a secret lurking behind those bright, blue eyes of hers. He doesn't think of himself as a particularly sharp person, but he notices that Annie always seems to have her guard up. Not for other people - more for herself, for the vulnerable, uncontrollable moments when life brims on her usually cold features as she connects the sharp bone of her shin to his shoulder.

He'd fall to the ground, bolts of pain shooting up his back, and yet it all dissipates because of_ her_. For when he looks up, he sees the numbing sight of an Annie who looks _alive_. Her skin tinged pink with heat and sweat, pupils blown wide with adrenaline— _alive_, full of giddy pride, irrefutably human.

Before he realises it, he chases after _that_ Annie. And it's almost as though she's picked up on his intrigue, as she's begun avoiding him since he's made that one (failed) attempt for her mouth.

Annie keeps her distance because she knows that _he_ can't.

* * *

The day is scorching hot and cloudless skies are heavy on the trainees' shoulders. It's hard to keep one's head up, but they all do so because anything less will incite a verbal beating from Satan's stepbrother, Keith Shadis. That, or the devil's students are driven by a formidable sense of duty that remains unshakable even in the most uncomfortable weather conditions — the latter is precisely why Eren looks forward to the next couple of hours of hand-to-hand combat training while the majority pray silently for respite.

'Find a partner!' Shadis barks. The cadets scramble to do so.

Well, most of them do.

Annie doesn't.

Amidst the jumble of a dispersing crowd, her lithe, unsuspecting frame easily slips away, unnoticed by all with the exception of Eren Yeager. He catches her from his peripheral, and has the bad sense to follow her into the forest. Considering that unlike Annie, he sticks out like a sore thumb, he strategically walks behind Shadis' field of vision as he beelines for the trees. He catches up to her by the riverside, where she's staring off into the water, her back to him.

Though he cannot see her face, he imagines it to be peaceful. For a second, he envies the river.

'Hey, Annie!' he calls out, she whips around and glares - he doesn't give a shit, 'You promised that you'd teach me that move from yesterday!'

'Go away, Yeager. You're robbing me of my alone-time.'

'Right, uh-huh— you're _always_ alone, Annie.'

She says nothing, but places her hands on her waist and cocks her hip to the side as if to say_ so what? _

'Come on, Annie. Would it kill you to just... give me some of this?'

'Some of what?'

'Your_ time._'

'What on earth do you want to do with_ that_?' she presses her back up against a tree, folds her arms, and raises her brows at him, 'Is there something you want from me other than a good beating? Cause if it's a kiss you want, thought I made it clear last time that you're not getting one.'

'No, I just—' his jaw hangs ajar, half-formed words choking to a halt in his throat. He hadn't expected her to put him on the spot like that because frankly, he finds himself creepy for wanting to dig into her soul. Eventually, he regains some semblance of composure, albeit his voice is softer than the half-formed breath he takes in to steel himself, 'We're comrades. I have fun with you. Spending time together... isn't that what friends do?'

_Preposterous_; it_ nearly_ gets her to crack a smile— but alright, his insistence has piqued her interest and she's willing to bite _for now_, 'Eren, we literally do nothing except beat the shit out of each other. We're not friends, not even close.'

'Well, that's _your_ fault!' he fumes, 'I've tried to sit with you for dinner, just for you to stand up and leave-'

'I don't like the murderous look your bodyguard shoots me.'

'I try to talk to you outside of training-'

'I don't talk, period.'

'And when I try to take breaks during hand-to-hand combat to maybe _have a conversation_, you shut me down by _pummelling me to the ground_!' he bellows the last phrase, prompting Annie to fist the fabric of his uniform jacket and pull him down. Before he can protest, her hand is already on his mouth. She nudges his kneecap with a thigh, throwing him off-balance so that he topples backwards onto the grass on his ass. She goes limp, allowing herself to go with the motions. Then she's on top of him, palming his shoulders to lift herself up, levelling her eyes to his.

Eren squirms. Man, she's a cunt._ It's fucking hot today._

'You have_ fun_ when we spar?' Annie has that look on her face again, as though she were looking at something— at _someone_ — too stupid to exist, 'When my father taught me my moves, it was anything but _fun_,' she leans in, presses her lips against the junction of his jaw and ear, and he shudders involuntarily when she speaks again, 'Not a day of rest, from sunrise to sundown, every damn day— absolute obedience,' her voice drops to a whisper, 'Once... I wanted to kill him.'

'Did you?'

Annie's hands travel to the back of her his head, cold fingers entwining with his coffee locks, 'No.'

He sighs, relieved, letting out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding in, 'Then-'

'I settled for crushing his left leg.'

By the way the whole of his body tenses beneath her, she's become conscious of the dark lick she's just sent up his spine. With a wicked half-grin, she tugs at his hair lightly, tilting him as she moves her lips to the pulsating vein of his neck. His breathing turns ragged. She inhales the scent of his skin, faintly smelling of bread (it was his turn in the kitchen that morning) and holiday wood.

'What are you doing?'

'Making friends,' she smiles into his pulse.

He can feel her teeth on him.

She's _all_ teeth, and yet he chooses to lean in.

Gawd, he's a dumb fuck, especially when it comes to her.

His own hands, which have been supporting his (their) weight on the ground at his sides, begin to ache. He moves one, to the dip of her waist, up the contour of her torso, winding up with her hair-bun in its grasp. She stiffens, but says nothing. A moment passes, then he tugs hard, whipping her head back so she's forced to stare into his blazingly verdant eyes, brighter and wilder than the overgrown green of the forest around them. He is a fire no one can put out, a bursting line of flames searing her. He is unrelenting, and he won't stop until he burns with her, until he unearths the Pandora's box that she keeps under lock and key.

He feels her go taut, sees her eyes go empty— she's retreating into the labyrinth of her mind, as far away from him as possible.

In a desperate attempt to reel her back in, he asks that one burning question, 'What's your secret, Annie?'

'If I tell you, then it's not much of a secret, is it?'

'Ah-hah, so you _are_ hiding something.'

'We all have our secrets, Yeager,' she digs her nails into his scalp, dragging out a low hiss from him, 'Mine stay _buried_, until I follow them straight to the grave. Maybe the day you know me— the _real_ _me_ — is the day you bury me.'

His heart is hammering against his chest. He lets her hair go, trails his long fingers around to caress a pale cheek, which he cups with surprising tenderness, 'What if...'

'What?'

'What if I _don't _want to bury you?'

Comfort is foreign to her. Nevertheless, she welcomes the warm prickle where her heart should be. He makes her want to smile again; this naive, passionate boy is making her smile. It's unbecoming of a warrior. Despite knowing all this, she tilts her face to kiss his wrist, 'You will. You'll want to.'

'You're wrong.'_ I'd never do that, not to you._ Annie is unmoving, her lips linger on his skin in what can only be described as a display of affection - so unlike her. It fascinates him, the thrilling puzzle that is Annie Leonhart. He smirks, 'Thought you said I'd never get a kiss from you.'

'Ah...' her eyes fly to him, almost fearful, like she's just made a grave mistake, though her gaze is careful, effervescent with specks of ice foiling beneath the sweltering sunlight, 'But it's not the kiss you want, is it?'

'You don't know what I want.'

'So enlighten me.'

His heart jumps up, pounding against the constricting walls of his throat. Thankfully, he's always been a brave one; the hand he has on her cheek slides to the underside of her jaw, sloping so that she's angled to look up at him. Beneath his fingers, he feels_ her_ heart beating faster than normal, and he turns light-headed at the thought that he's done that to her.

'Eren Yeager,' she growls, defensive,_ fearful,_ 'What do you want from me?'

'I want to learn how to talk to girls,' he pauses when she fails to react, which he takes as permission to confess, 'I want to learn how to talk to _you_.'

Annie smiles sadly.

She's beautiful when the frost of her eyes melts to expose the truth she tries so hard to conceal; she's not a soldier. She's soft and desperate for him, which he's already surmised because he's the only person she gives the time of day to. Even so, she keeps him at arm's length— close enough to taste, not to be touched by. She is the lion, even in her cage, still a _lion_. He can't get too close. It's her birthright to bite.

Perhaps it is precisely since he's broken this boundary that she raises her hackles just as swiftly as she's bared her spirit.

He's burnt her, singed her with the humanity she wishes for.

Annie pulls his head back with so much force, he's convinced it's an attempt to rip his hair clean off his scalp. 'We're done here,' she declares, rising to her feet while he rubs the back of his head, 'Now if there's nothing else, fuck off.'

'Annie.'

'We are _not_ friends.'

He silently agrees. There's nothing more to say.

* * *

**Thank you for reading this story! This pairing continues to fascinate me because of the potential for uncomfortable interactions. I wanted to write about such a scenario. I don't have any current plans for this piece, but I do hope that you've enjoyed it as I had a lot of fun writing it. Thank you again for your interest! **


	2. Potatoes And Prunes

Supper is a predictable occurrence. And kind of gross, sometimes.

The food isn't normally good, nor is it bad. Tonight, however, the main dish may resemble a rendition of the usual potato stew, but might as well be pig slop. That's what happens when the instructors think it's a good idea to assign Connie and Sasha to the same kitchen duty schedule. Eren raises his spoon to his nose, takes a whiff of the greyish-red pudding thing he's scooped up, and tries not to retch. He sets the spoon back down.

'This is disgusting,' Mikasa says bluntly.

Too chicken to agree, Armin opts instead to placate the situation, 'Haha… Well, we've got to eat, since it's another rough day tomorrow.'

Eren remains silent. He's thinking about Annie. Specifically, he's mulling over their encounter earlier in the day, at the forest during hand-to-hand combat training.

Why did he follow her? Was it really an attempt at friendship? It's his choice and yet, without so much as an utterance of a word from her, he feels spellbound, like she had beckoned him to her - like a fish swimming towards a lure. Not that he regrets it. When she was on top of him, her lips upon his wrist, teeth merely a breath away from his skin; he thinks that moment is a fond memory, one he replays over and over in his head.

Weird, considering how Annie is singularly the most terrifying woman he's ever met.

_Uggghhhhh!_

Eren chokes on a cry. Mikasa is quick to pat his back and ask what's wrong, but he only brushes her off and hangs his head in shame.

Reiner, who's decided to invite himself and Bertholdt to join Eren's group for dinner and is seated across the table from said suicidal blockhead, has a burning question at the back of his mind. He just doesn't know how to bring it up. Really, a more appropriate setting to do so would be in a few hours at the boys' barracks. But Reiner is a nosy little weasel in bear's clothing who revels in drama (particularly when it relates to a_ that_ blonde bitch) and he can't take the suspense any longer.

'Eren, is something going on between you and Annie?'

Every single pair of eyes in the room fly to Reiner.

Even Annie's, if only momentarily.

'What?!' Eren gawks.

'R-Reiner, please…' Bertholdt clears his throat, throwing a quick glance at the woman they're presently chatting about. Annie, who's seated three tables over, is unfazed. She stares disinterestedly at her untouched meal, 'I don't think Eren wants to talk about that. Let's just enjoy our dinner…'

'Oh, come on.' Reiner rolls his eyes, 'It's just a question.'

'You _are_ the only person she pairs with during combat training.' Armin wonders aloud before backpedaling because Mikasa's glare is_ that_ terrifying, 'But of course, it's not practical to get involved romantically with someone, considering we're here to become soldiers.'

Eren frowns, 'Soldiers can have wives. I'd like one eventually.'

'You'd like to wife up Annie?' Reiner wiggles his eyebrows.

'Well, I think Eren's uncomfortable, so we should really move on!' Bertholdt clucks, slapping a palm on Reiner's back with enough force to squash a small animal. Against Reiner's build, it barely registers as a friendly handshake, 'Right?!'

'I'm not uncomfortable,' he bluffs, 'Besides, you guys are seriously making a big deal out of nothing. Annie and I just spar sometimes.'

'Oh, come on,' Reiner snorts, 'I wouldn't blame ya, Eren. I know she's a soulless prune, but she has a _nice_-'

Mikasa interjects, 'Eren still hasn't eaten. 'You're distracting him.'

It's too late. Eren's offended, for a few reasons. Interestingly enough, that last, unfinished remark regarding Annie's derriere sours him. Annie probably heard that. Did she expect him to defend her modesty? No— she'd probably kick him between his legs and mutter something like _I don't need a man to defend me, especially not a boy like you, Yeager!_ It'll just piss them both off if he says anything.

So much for convincing her that he's interested in who she is as a person, as a human, and not just as a mentor. He can't keep on pretending like he isn't hurt by her, especially after what she pulled in the woods today.

'I don't want to talk about this anymore,' Eren's eyes darken as he gets to his feet, then walks out of the hall.

Mikasa follows him out. So does Armin.

Bertholdt scolds Reiner for his insensitivity.

Everyone else resumes their supper.

Minus Annie, who seethes in silence.

Soulless prune?

_Soulless prune?!_

Reiner's never been her favourite person, but he's officially on her list. _That_ list. A list that has her preoccupied with thoughts of making Reiner disappear for the next hour of dinner. Before she thinks herself up into actually applying her imagination to reality, Mina interrupts: 'Hey…' she tries to whisper, but she's too loud anyway, 'What's up with you and Yeager?'

Annie shrugs. She bites into her bread, hoping that no one else will start a conversation with her if she's got food in her mouth.

Her plan doesn't work.

Stupid teenage girls; they're unrelenting, and it isn't just Mina anymore either. Now Hannah and Moira and Laura (Annie's guessing their names, they've never spoken to her prior to now) have started shooting questions her way despite not getting a single answer. Perhaps they assume that she'll cave in to their persistence at some point.

'Do you two hang out outside of training?'

'Who made the first move?'

'Do you like him?'

'I'm _eating_,' Annie snaps— that last question had cut her somewhere deep.

The girls go quiet. Still, they've won: _Bingo!_ Mina shoots Hannah a playful smirk. There's a silent understanding; _can't wait to giggle about this later!_

The rest of the mess hall reverts back to its usual mild chatter. Jean's bitching about Eren somewhere to the far right, by the door. Marco's trying to calm him down. On the table over, Reiner's giving a speech about how romance is fun, but should be approached with caution since the life they all lead is that of a soldier's.

'Dangerous and unpredictable,' Reiner beams loudly, 'So we should make smart choices. You know— ones we won't regret later.'

Annie scoffs to herself. She knows that he's stupidly aimed that comment at her, which only serves to amplify the murderous intent she already feels towards him. But she'll play it cool, for now. No point in blowing a gasket. She tries to finish the rest of her bread, but only gets to half of it before she drops it onto her cold stew.

The bells chime, signalling the end of the hour.

Annie doesn't immediately get up. She's tired.

Reiner and Bertholdt pass her. The latter's always concerned about her, and this time is no exception, 'You didn't eat much,' he observes meekly. He looks like he wants to say something else, but is intercepted by his fellow warrior.

'It's useless,' Reiner shoots Annie a dark look, 'She never did learn not to play with her food.'

* * *

**…**

* * *

Eren doesn't spar with Annie for a month.

Four weeks.

Thirty-one days.

She's anxious about it by the time the cold weather rolls in. It's snowing outside, and will probably continue to for the rest of the season. Apparently, in this side of the world, hotter summers bleed into biting winters. Consequently, hand-to-hand combat training is suspended until further notice. The instructors don't want any of the cadets dying on them, after all. Not when the militia is in desperate need of bodies.

Of course, this all means that Annie has absolutely no excuse to interact with Eren.

It's not like he approaches her anymore, not after that fiasco in the forest.

She expected him to put distance. Pushing people away is instinctual for her. But it was even easier to commit to dismissing Eren because his passion frightens her. He's special; so human, but in a way that is foreign to her. Unlike herself, who bends weakly to the will of unknown forces, Eren charges straight into the fray without a second thought. He's defiant, beautifully so, like a single, bright flame flickering a brilliant orange amidst the ice.

Maybe Annie's a little jealous of him.

Maybe she misses him.

Maybe.

'Hey,' she greets him curtly once as they pass each other before roll call.

Eren offers a small, hollow smile. Beyond that, he doesn't say anything and speeds past her.

Annie's surprised by how much his indifference hurts her.

* * *

**…**

* * *

There's something that hurts a little more, and Annie deems herself selfish for allowing herself to be stung in the first place.

Eren's a happy person. Despite his history, he's happy.

She observes this in the sparks that go off in his eyes before the instructors introduce a new training course or when he succeeds in what he's previously failed at. He's equally energetic when he's smashing his fist onto Jean's ribs, only to get beaten up right back and whisked away by Mikasa a minute later. That older sister figure of his, together with Armin, scold and console Eren in that order after each of his episodes. Then, the very next day, Eren's got another goofy grin on his face and is ready to fight another day.

He's seen the Titans. Yet, he braves this danger. He dedicates his life, even if it's insignificant relative to the rest of the militia.

He has an unwavering sense of purpose, and because of this, he can be happy.

He knows who he is.

She does not.

'Stare at him any longer and you might as well be eating him instead of your dinner, Leonhart.' Ymir mutters under her breath.

Annie blinks, snapping out of her stupor. She didn't even realise that her gaze has been glued to Eren until now. Aware that a blush blooms across her cheeks, she directs her attention to her untouched bean soup. Is it bean? It's green, with yellow blotches at the sides where the oil separates. Disgusting. She can't do this. But she has to, or she'll be forced to endure another grilling from the girls.

'If you're so into him, why not just go for it?' Ymir continues, nudging her seat-mate with an elbow. Annie's at least thankful that the taller woman is trying to keep her inquiries discreet. The others haven't caught onto their topic. Not even Krista, who's chatting away to the rest of the table about whatever because it doesn't really matter and they all just want an excuse to admire her. 'Leonhart,' Ymir presses while the others are distracted, 'What's stopping you?'

Annie swirls her soup with a spoon, 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'I think he likes you.'

'Well, he shouldn't.'

* * *

**…**

* * *

This afternoon, Annie's assigned to do meal prep.

She actually likes to do the cooking because she's a) usually paired with someone too scared to bother her with conversation, and b) it's quiet in the kitchen, away from the hooligans letting loose after a rough day of training. Actually, she seems to have an extra stroke of luck today considering that she's been working for half an hour and yet, no one's joined her. Perhaps she's been tasked to do this all alone, which isn't so bad. She can get it done.

Winter is dogged. Annie doesn't recall experiencing anything quite like it. It's as if the earth itself is rebelling, screaming something like _wake up, you fools! There are traitors amongst you!_

Annie considers herself.

She's not a good person, but she'd like to believe that she's still a person.

'Hey.'

Annie's heart skips a beat. She recognises that voice, and the familiarity sets off a thrill in her gut that's uncharacteristic of her. Too flustered to even think to put the potato she's been working on down onto the table, she turns on her heel. Potato in her hand and all.

To Eren, it's a strange sight. This strong girl who's given him a hundred bruises and two broken ribs looks harmless in an apron. Domesticated, even. It's not just the fact that she's cooking or that she's dressed for the part; her crystalline-blue eyes are wide, frightened and sparkling with anticipation, like she's seen a friendly ghost. Except they're not friends, so she has no business wearing that expression on her face.

'Sorry I'm late,' he grumbles and reaches for another apron hanging on the hook of the door. He's clearly avoiding her. His back faces her, and his eyes focus on the furthest thing from her body: the empty pot where the stew of the night is supposed to boil in. He busies himself with it. Takes it to the sink, starts scrubbing at the metal. Anything to keep from having to walk over to her.

Disappointed, Annie resumes her potato peeling. Well, more like hacking. She's lopping off the skin in jagged, reckless strokes of a knife. She's bothered by the wordless grudge of a stupid teenage boy who can't lower his fists. What's worse is she can't even control this feeling she has; of guilt and desire, of a need so tempting that she feels it in her chest now despite having her interest rebuffed by Eren Yeager of all people.

Fifteen minutes pass. Annie knows because she's counting the seconds in her head. She has to, or she won't be able to keep herself calm. The potato is starting to look as bad as she feels inside, with its irregular shaping courtesy of her blade. Her meal prep isn't normally this bad.

She supposes it won't matter because it'll all be recut into chunks for the stew soon anyway.

_Wrong._

Keith Shadis enters, whipping the door open with so much force that the knob hits a wall. His attention immediately flies to Eren, who's started filling the pot with water. As much as Shadis is looking forward to this particular subordinate's next ass-kicking, he can't very well punish without crime, can he? This shred of dignity in the instructor's heart saves Eren, who gulps a hard lump at his throat because he absolutely cannot afford to screw up in front of this guy.

Annie is another story.

'Leonhart, you brainless roach!' Shadis bellows, eyeballs threatening to bulge out of his sockets as he stares pointedly at the naked potato in her hands, 'What the hell is that?!'

She stiffens.

_Shit._

She doesn't know what to do, so does nothing.

'Leonhart! You're supposed to_ skin _the potatoes, not maul them! What the hell is this-' Shadis unceremoniously reaches into the wastebin next to her. He grasps the skins she's discarded, brings it up to her face, 'You've taken off the actual meat of it too!'

It's true. She didn't do it properly because she was pissed at Eren and needed to take it out on something.

Annie inhales sharply - she fucked up, can't get out of this one.

'Do you think we can afford to waste food around here, cadet?_ Do_ you?!'

'No, Sir.'

'Then do it right! Or I'll have you skip out on kitchen duty altogether and have you scrubbing toilets instead!'

Miraculously, he does not headbutt her. He doesn't so much as touch her, really. Just marches back out as quickly as he'd come, a dozen deep lines expressing his vexation. Although that has less to do with Annie, and more to do with the frustration he feels that he can't psychologically castrate Eren today.

The door slams shut. Annie stares at it, as though she doesn't know how to proceed after what just transpired. It's clear to Eren, who's spent over a decade familiarising himself with Mikasa's cryptic social processing, that Annie is affected by the verbal beating she's received. He can't imagine that she'd take too kindly to being called brainless, let alone a roach, no matter how cooly she tries to play it off.

Sighing, he drops his pot and makes his way over to her. She doesn't react until he takes the knife away from her, to which she flinches.

'Look,' he whispers as he slowly reaches over her side for another potato, careful not to impose on her space with his voice or body, 'You're supposed to do it like this,' he angles the potato diagonally with one hand, presses the thumb of his other onto the straight edge of the knife so that it picks up just a the tiniest bit of the brown skin, which then easily lifts. Thereafter, he secures it with the tip of the knife and gracefully starts to peel.

Annie tilts her head. 'Ah… You're surprisingly good at that.'

'I've had a lot of practice. My mom used to make me help her out in the kitchen sometimes.'

'I see.'

This was meant to only be a demo, but she doesn't make an effort to mirror him. Eren's nostrils flare. Does she expect him to do her work for her? 'Hey,' he presses, miffed, 'Grab a potato and get to it.'

'But you're so much better suited for this task than I am.'

'Oh, _no_.'

His temperature is rising fast - a natural occurrence around the infuriating Annie. He takes her by the wrist, pulls her to him, back-to-chest, and forcibly takes her hands in his. It's uncharacteristic how tame she is when he manipulates her arms so that they're intertwined with his, his palms nestling on the top of her hands to guide her to a knife and the potato he was working on.

'Alright, Annie— do it like I showed you.'

Annie stiffens. She doesn't speak.

'Fine, forget the potato,' he whispers into her ear in as soothing a voice as he can muster. His heart is hammering against his chest; she's unpredictable and that's scary, 'Just… I'm here, OK?'

He releases her hands, so the objects she's loosely held onto fall on the table. She makes no move to pick them up, but neither does she swat his arms away. The close proximity of their bodies births a heat that burns him, and he realises the implication of the lack of distance between them.

Awkwardly, he moves to the side so he can pretend to busy himself with a potato and knife. He steals a glance at her; she's unreadable as always.

'I'm angry with you,' she admits, breaking the silence. She tucks a long bang behind her ear. He observes her fingers; they're trembling. His attention flies back to the potato; it's less intimidating than the uncharacteristic fragility she displays right now.

Eren swallows, 'Why's that?'

'You've been ignoring me.'

'Thought that's what you wanted, Annie.'

'No,' she smiles at him, confident that he cannot see. Except, he can, and a grin of his own creeps onto his mouth.

* * *

**Thank you to all of you who read and remain interested in this story! I still don't have a concrete plan for where I want to go with this project. I will say that I'm interested in exploring different romantic dynamics with other characters and how they can be affected by an unhealthy relationship between Eren and Annie. That said, I haven't fully planned out how I could wedge that into the story, so those bits may come later. Right now, I do still want to build on how Eren sees Annie and vice versa.**

**Thank you to everyone who's shown support, your comments are so very sweet.**

**Alexia, thank you for your kind words! I will definitely be trying to make this story as uncomfortable for the pairing as I think is appropriate (lol). One of the themes I want to explore is their incompatibility.**

**IMPORTANT EDIT; after a very helpful review from Dorminchu and reconsideration of the first release of this chapter, I've revised it from the original. I do feel that it's more in line with the themes of this story. I hope you enjoy it all the same!**


	3. Neither Here Nor There

**A/N: Due to the mature themes I've decided I want to explore in this story, please read with the assumption that the characters are 18 and over. Thank you so much!**

* * *

Three months left until graduation and the impending ceremony doesn't feel real: the cadets have been training for six years now, settling into a normalcy comprised of broken bones and bruises. Because it's all child's play compared to the real thing, the majority find distraction and comfort in their gruelling schedule.

Eren, however, never loses sight of the future. If he should be deployed today, he'd welcome the opportunity to engage the Titans. He'd gladly risk (_give_) his life if it meant that his sacrifice would actually change something in this ridiculously cruel world.

He tells Annie this, because they have nothing to talk about while they're alone together in the woods. The rest of the trainees are wrapped up in combat training.

It's not in his nature to slack off, but the prospect of spending time with the girl he likes increases exponentially day by day— especially considering that soon, she'll live in the interior and he may very well never see her again. And he knows she's just as anxious about it as he, for he's observant of the little things she permits to him and only him. It's not enough; she keeps him at arm's length, and he's terrified that all he'll ever see of her is smoke and mirrors.

Then again, is that such a tragedy? Maybe it'd be best if he could just be done with her forever. Beats where he is now, trying to salvage what he can of the burning bridge between them. She's as unresponsive as ever.

'Don't you have anything to say?'

Annie shrugs, 'Doesn't matter.'

'What's that?'

'You're going to die soon. Nothing I say is going to change that,' she turns her attention elsewhere, to the earth-etched striations of the bark she's sitting on. She runs her fingers along the lines; reminds her of the unique mapping of his palms.

'When I come back for you, you're going to eat your words.'

'And what if I... _expire_ before then?'

Eren frowns, 'You won't. The Military Police don't do anything too dangerous. Plus, you get rifles.'

'Guns are useless against Titans.'

'What, you think they'll destroy Walls Rose and Sina, too?' he's tempted to lecture her, but is charmed by the softness of uncharacteristic fear in her gaze. It guilts him into calm, and he opts instead for reassurance, 'I won't let them, Annie. I'll protect you.'

'Ah.'

'What? You don't think I can?'

Annie turns her head away from him so that he can only see the back of her head, which slumps with her posture. Her hands converge atop her knees, fingers intertwined and trembling. A thick band of silver catches his attention. Has she ever worn that ring before? He didn't think she'd be the type to fancy jewellery.

'I won't let you die,' he cups the underside of her jaw, firmly, forcing her to face him. The pressure is enough for her to make out the shape of his fingers; strangely soothing against the permafrost of her skin. She sighs, and this insignificant display of vulnerability piques his interest. Eren zeroes on in her momentary weakness, leaning forward to press his forehead against her shoulder.

Annie can smell him; holiday wood, smoke— how long till she whiffs blood?

He moves his hand downwards, thumb lingering over the pulse point of her throat for a beat too long, then over her shoulder, sliding along the length of her arm. This all ends when he takes her hand in his; her nails rake his palm, a reminder of who she is. Undeterred, he mumbles, 'Didn't know you liked this kind of stuff.'

'Hm?'

Eren taps her ring, 'You know— girly things.'

She shrugs, 'Not really.'

'You're wearing it on the wrong finger, though.'

'Hmph... It fits too big otherwise.'

'So I'll get you a better one,' he says, a proposal Annie jolts at. He raises his head, meets her startled eyes, 'What?'

'I won't marry you, Eren. Not ever.'

'Yeah? You're a shitty liar.'

And he presses his lips to hers.

Her lids shut automatically: she's never done this before, so it's surprising how natural this all feels. It's just a chaste graze of skin, nothing that should send her heart threatening to shatter through her chest or electricity shoot up her spine; but it _does_, and she's pulling away before she crosses the boundary between monster and human.

'Eren—,' but his hands are on her waist and his mouth turns insistent, desperate. She doesn't resist, just goes along with the flow even after she tastes tongue. Leans into it, in fact, and if she's being perfectly honest, wishes he'd do more while she's willing.

Eren breaks for air, grins at her as though she is the reason the earth spins on its axis. No one's ever looked at her like that before.

Then he's got his mouth on hers again, and her arms have found their way round his neck.

He's a good kisser.

_I'll never be a normal girl._

'Hey, Annie...'

_He knows this. __He likes me anyway._

'...You're smiling.'

Annie touches her lips— it's true. Now that she's been found out, it's an overwhelming sense of relief that washes over her, and her smile grows. It has him matching her enthusiasm in action, his head dipping to mouth down her neck, sweet nothings coming from a hopelessly reckless man imprinting onto her skin like a hex. She arches her back, parts her thighs, until she feels his touch dangerously low— that smarts, and pushes him back sharply with a hiss.

His gut somersaults; he's never seen her so angry before, and that's saying quite a lot.

'I'm sorry,' is all he thinks to say, although he doesn't understand what he did wrong.

Tears prickle her eyes. She can't understand herself either.

'...Did I hurt you, Annie?'

She shakes her head. _Stop saying my name_, but her brand on his lips is what makes her feel human.

Eren rubs the back of his neck. 'Don't worry. I won't tell anyone about this.'

Annie pushes past him, suddenly in the mood to rejoin combat training: _I don't give a shit, you're going to die anyway._

* * *

**...**

* * *

It's just a stupid kiss.

But it's changed her somehow; can't eat much, or sleep well, or banish that moment from her thoughts even though she so desperately wishes she could because it makes her feel guilty— so, so guilty, like she wants to take a blade to her chest and tear out the part that skips a beat whenever she sees _him_. But every time he tries to talk to her, she no longer has the constitution to rebuff his advances. Actually, she finds herself enjoying their short exchanges, missing him at night and wondering what they could have been if she weren't a Titan.

Heck, why'd he have to be born in Paradis? Being Eldian is one thing, but why couldn't he have sprouted from the other continent? Maybe if he were in Marley, they would've met when she returned, and he'd have kissed her then too, and met her father, and—

The fact that she even considers her own future in the wake of an impending massacre should strip her of the right to be loved.

There's no use thinking about it. Maybe it's best to avoid Eren... No, he's too good, makes her feel _too good_, and _fuck_— is this why Reiner and Bertholdt have no qualms pretending to be soldiers?

Annie wipes her eyes. She opens the door from within the bathroom stall.

In front of where she's exited, Ymir is brushing her teeth by the sink. From the mirror, she sees Annie, and appears to be surprised, 'Hey. You OK?'

'Leave me alone.'

Ymir snorts, ducks to spits foam, 'Yeah— all the girls are gonna ask you the same thing out there, y'know. Your eyes are super red.'

Annie stiffens before begrudgingly retreating back into the stall. She locks it, leans her back against the door, and attempts to swallow her tears. A soft whine escapes instead.

'Seriously; are you alright?' Ymir knocks on the other side, 'You're kinda freaking me out.'

Annie exhales shakily.

'... Do you regret it?'

Annie smiles, baring teeth, 'Not at all.'

'Atta girl.'

* * *

**...**

* * *

When Eren asked if they could study in the library on their day off, she hadn't expected him to be clever enough to use that excuse as a rouse to get her alone with him. She thought perhaps that at least Armin would be present (because he's always got his head stuck in a book) or Mikasa would glare at her continuously no more than two feet away. Except, there's no one but him and her, and her heart beats so thunderously against her ribcage that for the first time in her life, she fears that she's lost what little control Marley or her father didn't take.

It doesn't help that Eren looks on at her expectantly, as though she's seasoned; but she's never been in this type of relationship before— can't label it, can't study it, can't go off of what she observes with others because whatever _this_ is, it's theirs and theirs alone.

She sinks into her seat. Eren picks up on her distress, and assumes that she's still upset with him, 'I'm sorry about the other day.'

'There's nothing to apologise for. I wanted it.'

He presses his tongue to his cheek. '... Thought you did. In the end, it didn't seem like it.'

'It was just... a lot. You caught me by surprise, that's all.'

'Then...?'

Annie doesn't answer. She flips her textbook to the next page, pretends to read. This show of indifference does not last very long, for her confidence dwindles beneath his silent gaze, and she subsequently snaps, 'I'm not interested in you like that.'

That cuts him deeper than she intended, the realisation dawning on her when she glances up only to see his expression fall. She wants to retract her vitriol, decides against it because she's _committed_ to her mission, until he goes on, 'What's going on between us, then?'

She tilts her head, as if to jumpstart an acceptable train of logic from her brain. Truthfully, she hadn't thought much of the hows, whys and ifs of their unusual relationship; just accepted it and the fact that it brought her a strange, giddy happiness (?). None of this should matter, and it's not like it'll last; Eren is a fixed casualty. Just a meatbag of blood and bones— these thoughts skid to a halt lest she burst into tears in front of him.

'Did I do something wrong, Annie?'

_It fucking hurts when you look at me._

'... Annie?'

'Let's kiss.' she proposes, and after a beat of hesitation, he complies.

* * *

**...**

* * *

_Eren Jaeger gave his heart, and life, in service to humanity._

Those were the words that left Armin as he knelt, a bawling mess on the rooftop as the shock of the news turns Mikasa into stone in front of him. The rest of the cadets, who have been just been cruelly reminded that hell is on earth and that not only Eren but his entire squad has been wiped out, start to lose their heads as panic sets in: _We're going to die today._

Annie is not immune to fear or grief or desperation, as much as she acts as though she is. Her glamour dissipates, and Reiner steadies her with a big hand on her elbow. Her attention flies to him, eyes wide and accusing (_You did this_) before she sees Bertholdt staring at her meekly behind their joke of a leader (_**We** did this_, and Annie can do nothing but agree).

'Get a hold of yourself.' Reiner squeezes her.

She whips her arm back. Reiner narrows his eyes as she wobbles on her feet. 'I'm _fine_.'

She's absolutely fine. Because it doesn't matter. None of this matters.

_He_ never mattered. She knew that he was always going to die.

_He's never going to give me **that look** ever again._

Somehow, she finds herself gripping Reiner's wrist to support her unsteady weight. He allows this.

Annie wants to vomit, but won't. She's a warrior, after all.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone interested in this story, and especially to those who read this chapter despite the hiatus. **

**I sort of confused myself with the direction of this project: initially, I wanted it to be Eren-centric without much insight into Annie's POV. But then last chapter, I wrote Annie's perspective as the narrative, which changed the tone of this project from what I originally intended. I ****didn't know how to pull it back after veering off-course. But now, I think I've got a better understanding of where I want to take this from here! ****I also want to say that the rating will most likely go up. I've not committed to that entirely yet, but I do feel like I'm going to take it there to explore the original concepts I wanted to with this story.**

**Paramyth, thank you for your kind support!**

**ADAMANT, thank you so much for reading my stories, I truly appreciate your support! Sorry that this took quite a while to update. I hope that I was able to explain above why I took a break from this.**


	4. With The Flow

Reiner Braun is aware that he has no talent for leadership, even if his only followers are Annie and Bertholdt. Referencing the original formation of the dispatched Warrior unit, the authoritative role had always been designed for the late Marcel. To fill in his shoes is too ambitious a goal.

However, Reiner likes to think that he can at least be a satisfactory mediator: a pillar, a big brother. Allowing himself and his fellow warriors to undulate between camouflage and betrayal in order to remain undetected in the hopes that one day, they'll smoke out the Founder and go home. _Patience is a virtue_; he adopts this cliché.

It's an effective strategy, at first. Bertholdt does his part by pulling Reiner back in whenever the latter strays too far. Other than that, both Annie and Bertholdt appear comfortable with their manufactured peace. This continues for several years, lulling Reiner into a lunatic's dream that all is well: there's nothing to worry about and it will all work out in the end. It's not like either of his partners wish to stray from their mission in any capacity.

Shockingly, he's proven wrong. And during the last leg of their enlistment too, what a downer.

* * *

**...**

* * *

It's an off-day, and Reiner heads to the library to get some studying done. His written marks aren't the best, which is a problem considering that he wants to get into the top ten— if only to prove that he's strong, worthy of the attention he receives from his peers. But the sun is too warm and the seats are too comfy, and he slips into sleep too deep to be a nap. When he comes to, it's because of the soft, suggestive sounds emanating from the other side of the loaded bookshelf concealing his large frame.

Books, not concrete. So there are a few nicely spaced cracks to peer out of.

Annie's hair, in its usual bun; and only she would wear a hoodie on her off-day. But he can't see her expression, she's facing away from him— but he can tell that she's preoccupied, locking lips with Eren, whose brows are furrowed in either apprehension or pleasure.

Eren whispers, 'Do you like me…?'

'No,' but Annie gasps, and though she twists her mouth away from him, arches her body forwards. Eren does not take the bait. He's glued to his position, his fingers a hair's width beside hers on top of the table they're allegedly studying on; even got the books and everything to make it look the part.

Reiner praises Annie's dedication to the illusion.

'That's alright. Then…' Eren leans in, face disappearing behind the back of Annie's head: presumably, brushing his lips against hers— smacking sound again, just more quietly, and his fingertips brush the back of her hand like a promise of tenderness, 'Can we keep kissing, right here?'

She's spitting on her motherland. How could she?

They kiss a little more until Eren declares he must leave. Armin and Mikasa are waiting for him by the mess hall. They're going to have lunch, then head to town for gallivanting. He offers a half-hearted invitation, preempting the decline. Annie shrugs, tells him to have fun, and that she still has a lot of studying to do. It's cute, Reiner thinks, how Eren hovers for a solid beat before saying, 'OK. See you later.'

After Eren leaves, Annie spends about ten minutes by her lonesome. Reiner watches her, observing a sudden shake in her form, her fingers swiping through her bun; they tremble. Reiner blinks, not quite believing what he's seeing. But when he opens his eyes, the moment is lost and Annie's resolve is once more set in stone.

Soon enough, Annie packs up, and departs.

Reiner stays right where he is. He still doesn't quite understand this last module about military etiquette.

* * *

**...**

* * *

Suppertime; a month before graduation.

For years now, Bertholdt has always joined him for food. Aside from this constant, Reiner has his pick of soldiers to keep him company.

Nowadays, he seeks Armin out, considering the runt scrapes top marks off of every subject of which wit is a determinant of success. Despite knit brows, Armin smiles, probably aware as to the reason he's being called upon. Then again, perhaps he's just relieved to be of some use to more physically talented soldiers. Ah, he's not so bad.

The trio is a package deal at meal times; since Armin takes his seat, Eren and Mikasa follow on the same bench. To his right, Reiner has Bertholdt. On the other, Marco, who's a great pseudo-translator for the more complex ideas Armin prattles on about without consideration for those who aren't yet familiar with the jargon. The chemistry of the group is efficient.

'A better teacher than the actual instructors!' Eren beams, pats Armin on the back. 'What would we do without you?'

The curl of Armin's lips feels like a perpetual thing now, 'Ha... Well, you guys are going to be great soldiers on the front. I just don't want to drag you all down.'

Mikasa squeezes his hand. She's very sweet.

'Majority of our assessments are based on physical strength, so I understand your concerns. But I'm telling you, it takes more than that to make a good soldier,' Reiner nods in Eren's direction, 'Although, besting over a hundred candidates in combat doesn't hurt.'

Eren grins, 'All thanks to Annie,' he looks over his shoulder, trying to find said girl in the mess hall; she's sitting alone, her back to them. Eren flashes teeth anyway, as though she was an old friend that he hasn't seen in years. When he faces Reiner again, his eyes are ablaze with pride.

'I'm surprised you guys get on so well.'

'Really? Maybe she's scary at first, but she's cool.'

Armin chimes in, 'Haha... I guess Annie's not a nice person, but she's a _good_ one.'

'Ooh, a riddle,' Reiner locks his gaze onto Annie's back, takes a long drink from his mug, 'Do enlighten me.'

Marco throws a quizzical look over to Bertholdt, who rubs his nape. He mutters that it's too hot.

Armin goes on to cite Annie's realist world view, and her willingness to share her thoughts regardless on whether they are accepted or not: because she _cares_ apparently, and it's revolting how one can pinpoint the precise moment when the lightbulb _tings_— that precious Annie has a heart, _she's just misunderstood, the poor girl._

Seasoned spy that she is, Annie can hear this all perfectly. She tucks a long bang behind her ear; her fingers are trembling again.

Bertholdt shifts in his seat.

Reiner clears his throat, swirls his stew, 'So when's the wedding?'

For the first time that evening, Eren's expression drops. He averts his gaze, 'O-Oh... Nah, we're not like _that_.'

Marco frowns.

The rest of the dinner focuses on the mundane. Folks are jolly tonight, and none of the instructors come by to complain about the noise (even though there's a lot of it) like they did during the earlier portion of their soldier's journey. As far as they're all concerned, the hard part's over. Now it's time to reap the benefits of a gruelling training regime: good salaries and carefully portioned authority within the walls.

Freedom is just a matter of time.

Later in the barracks, Eren isn't being his usual, rambunctious self. The younger boy often strikes him up for a chess match after the nightly shower, but this doesn't happen. Eren retires to his bed, on top of the blankets, staring at the same invisible spot on the ceiling for who-knows-how-long. Reiner huffs. He hadn't meant to agitate the kid, and at the end of the day, that's what he is: a kid. Calls himself a soldier, but won't ever comprehend the burden of a tried and true warrior.

'How's it going, man?'

Eren smiles wearily.

Reiner lowers his voice, 'Is this about Annie?'

'You're gonna tell me to forget it, too?'

'No,' he lies, easily, 'Was gonna wish you luck, actually. She's a tough cookie, but she's shown more interest in you than all the cadets together. I'd wager you got a shot, but, uh—' waves his arms around in messy gestures, deliberating whether he should just _say it_, 'Why _Annie_? You're gonna be in the corps, girls'll be fighting for you.'

Eren opens his mouth to speak, except nothing other than a croak escapes him. His jaw hangs for a while, until he shakes his head, lips tight. Reiner figures that the guy needs a few moments to think about it, but the tension soon itches his skin, and so he presses, 'Normal girls are way hotter anyway. Better bodies too, not so muscular.'

Eren flushes, 'T-That's not— I mean, she's cute, but—' he drags a hand down his face, 'I just like her, alright? Her,_ Annie_. No one else.'

* * *

**...**

* * *

Reiner's ass is starting to feel gouged. Like someone took a scalpel and gouged the meat right out of his cheeks.

He already knows all too well what it feels like to be thrown onto the dirt again and again, courtesy of his rough training with Annie in his youth. But that's all it ever truly was, no matter how heated either of them got: _training_. With Mikasa as his partner for combat practice today, the pain feels personal. Mikasa acts as though she's set on breaking his bones, frustration bestowed upon him by the misfortune of chance.

Reiner raises his hand, _Time-out!_ Mikasa nods, huffs, hands on her hips. From her peripheral, Mikasa observes Eren periodically. Reiner follows her gaze, sees that he's sparring with Annie, who seems strangely on-edge.

Annie lands a hard kick to the shin, causing her partner to crumple onto the grass. Tenacious as he is, Eren gets up but with reliance on his left, unharmed leg, only to be met by an elbow to the shoulder. A strangled noise in his throat, and then, she knees him in the chest.

_Bitch_. She's actually trying to maim him.

Eren's craftier than he lets on; as he collapses, both hands seek purchase on her harness, forcing her to the ground with him. He's quick to throw himself on top of her, has her squirming beneath his weight, but he's too pissed off to care about her comfort or their proximity or anything else that would have normally have him giddy.

'For fuck's sake, Annie! What did I ever do to you!?'

'It's not—,' strikes his shoulder, improper form— she hisses, '—all about _you_,' fist to his cheekbone; that smarts, he jolts, '_Yeager_!'

Fed up, he grabs her shoulders and presses down, hard. She grunts, feels rocky sediments scuff her through her clothes.

Her eyes are wide, incredulous.

'It's _Eren_,' he eases his grip, blood cooling from the vulnerability she showcases, 'Don't talk me like you're—'

Annie grimaces, cuts him off by smashing her forehead to his. One hand leaves her shoulder to fly to where it stings on his face; an opening she was waiting for. She swings with all her strength at his collarbone, and then something snaps,_ really snaps_; the numbing paralysis of the momentary shock and then, his shoulder feels like it's dissolving into gunpowder. He gasps audibly, clutches at his broken bone.

'Leonhart!'

Annie freezes.

Keith Shadis marches towards her, uncharacteristic worry etched onto his harsh features. His eyes dart momentarily to Eren, who has managed to get to his feet, albeit the breaths he takes are laborious and sharp. Shadis looks back at Annie, barks, 'Feral rat! Have you gone mad!?'

That's it; it's the end of the world. Annie's going to die. Shadis'll have her head and they'll lose the Female Titan and they'll never get back home and yes, yes, the world is ending because the ground is the sky and he's _weightless_—

'Fuck!' Reiner yelps as his back collides with the earth. Dizzy, blinks to regain his senses, and he realises that he's been thrown to the space between Shadis and the warrior. He tilts his head back, to the direction of the sound of approaching boots; Mikasa.

'Sir, if I could volunteer to be Annie's sparring partner from now on—'

'You'll do no such thing, Ackerman,' Shadis waves a dismissive hand in the aforementioned's direction without relinquishing his attention to Annie, 'Are you here to become a soldier or a serial killer?'

Annie doesn't respond.

Shadis takes a step closer, 'I should—'

'I'm fine!' Eren pipes up, but his rambunctious personality goes stiff, 'This is just—'

Shadis rears his head, 'Did I say you could speak, cadet?'

Eren does not falter, 'I'm _fine_. We were just sparring, Annie did nothing wrong,' Shadis still waits for elaboration on something Eren can't decipher, so he continues on the same trail of thought (even if it's a lie), 'I'm not injured.'

Silence. Reiner stands, dusts his ass.

Shadis turns back to Annie, 'Leonhart! You're on latrine duty until you graduate. I don't give a shit if you're in the top ten, you're bound to get your comrades killed in action if you don't learn some goddamn humility, do you understand me!?'

Annie salutes, 'Sir.'

* * *

**...**

* * *

'What a day.'

This isn't their usual, shady meetings beneath a moonless night. There are fewer walls, and harder hearts.

Bertholdt pinches his nose, lacking the sophistication to respond to Reiner without contributing to the awkwardness. Both men have their eyes to the floor, arms crossed, because it'd be easier than expecting input from Annie, who's clearly shaken from today's revelation that Eren Yeager is in possession of the Founding Titan.

'The great thing is that we have you,' Reiner gestures up and down her form, a distinct curvature to his motions— Annie's eyes flicker silver, 'Unexpectedly, you're our ace.'

Her brow twitches, 'What do you mean?'

'Well, you know...' Reiner clicks his tongue, rubs his chin— Annie narrows her eyes. He continues, 'Even _you_ can't help it, I guess. If a guy comes along, holds you, says he's gonna_ save_ you... You must think he's your prince.'

'How _dare _you.'

Teeth clenched together, cold glare steadfast. And yet, the whites of her eyes are reddening.

Reiner sinks his fangs into the vein of her hope, 'How do you suppose I ought to read you, huh? Should've seen your face when he came out of that Titan.'

'You're an idiot.'

'I'm quite clever, actually,' he lays a hand on his chest, can't even hide the smirk tugging at his mouth, 'If all goes well, we'll make it back home with The Founder in tow.'

'Waste of time. I don't have the charm—'

'He likes you. He told me so.'

Annie looks to the side, keenly aware of Marley's eyes on her. She thinks of Eren; wild verdant and sun kissed sin.

And while Reiner can make out the lonely, dimming stars that appear in her eyes, he knows she'll do as he says. Because they still have a home, and it isn't here.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone supporting this story! I'm really sorry that this isn't regularly updated. ****I have a lot more time now, so I hope I can update more frequently. This also took a while because the original draft was a lot different! Lately, I've been enjoying Reiner's character, so I wanted to do this in his POV, sort of.**

**If you have an FFN account or I recognise you from the discord server, I've responded to you privately. Otherwise, I do so below:**

**Monica, thank you for your review! Actually, I've written a couple comedic pieces on this couple on my Tumblr!**

**Alexia, thank you so much for your kind support! I make it a point to reply to everyone because I really am so thankful for your interest! Annie's smile is meant to emphasise that she doesn't want him to leave her alone. Thank you for that feedback! I edited it so that hopefully it's clearer now.**

**Forevershine, I know I responded to you on discord, but I want to say as well that your review really had me thinking! I forgot about some of those plot points (LOL) and you reminded that I actually have to think about what's going to happen in this story moving forward. The plot would've turned out waaaaay differently if you hadn't reminded me! Thank you for your kind support girl, you are literally the sweetest!**


	5. Ocean Eyes

**Before you read, I want to say that this story has been bumped up to an M rating. Thank you!**

* * *

None of the 104th cadets decided to join the Military Police.

A surprising turn of events, considering the dead-set the trio of potentials (not taking into account a non-committal Bertholdt). Jean's face may carry a perpetual lace of dread from here on out, but it's impossible to pick up on any of the sort from Marco and Annie. Although, the latter is hard to read in general and nothing seems to faze her. _That'll do you good out there_, Oruo had said in a failed attempt at intimidation.

Regardless of their individual motivations for joining the Survey Corps, Eren is happy to see all three of them choose what he believes to be the righteous path. He isn't shy about letting them know either, most especially Jean. Rather than take a jab right back at Eren, he says cooly, 'We're risking our lives for you, for something we don't understand. Prove to us why you're worth it.'

Despite his thick skin, those words penetrate Eren deeply.

He had a lot to prove. Yet even with all this mounting pressure, he's confident. After all, he's special, isn't he? If humanity had to rely on anyone, there's no better option than him. He knows he has the drive, will, and power to destroy the Titans. It's only a matter of time before they fall at his feet. Then they'd all kiss freedom.

'Eren.'

His attention snaps to his right, 'Huh?'

Mikasa furrows her brows. She wonders if the mystery of his Titan shifting abilities is impeding on his state of mind, 'You were daydreaming. What about?'

'Oh— nothing,' he's slow to respond. Last thing he needs is Mikasa harping on him.

She isn't satisfied with his response. Before she can prod further, Eren remarks that it's already six-o-clock; they shouldn't be late for supper. All the members of the Survey Corps, old and new, congregate at the mess hall for potato stew and_ two_ slices of bread. Definitely an upgrade from the menu back in the training days. Most could care less, but Sasha and Armin are pretty excited about it. Krista offers Sasha the extra helping of bread one of the servers had snuck on her tray for her, except Ymir is quick to steal it.

It's a busy scene.

Eren couldn't be happier.

The investment in training humanity's youth is paying off. Here they are, nearly_ all_ of them, young and strong with dedicated hearts.

And not a single person is missing from his heart's circle.

A familiar figure catches his eye; he'd recognise that pale head of hair anywhere.

Annie is sitting at a table over, nearly invisible. She's got her back turned to their group, huddled at the end of her bench while the soldiers nearest her chat amongst themselves as though she didn't exist. Mina used to hang around her, actually engaged. Wonder if Annie misses her.

Eren's chest twists guiltily. _Of course she does. She's not heartless, she's just..._

From a distance, Reiner and Bertholdt are making their way to Eren's table with food on hand. Reiner stops by Annie, balances his rations on one palm while the other boldly settles atop her shoulder. She stiffens, looks up at him. Reiner does not speak, but flashes a wide, confident smile that boasts his brotherly charm. Not that it ever worked on Annie before, so...

Miraculously, it does this time.

She gets to her feet, picks her tray up. Then she's trailing behind with Bertholdt, who starts blubbering because it's not secret that he's got a big crush on her. And Eren's never been threatened, not even in this moment. He's never had to use words to seduce her.

Reiner catches Armin's eye. Eren takes note of this, for Armin starts scooting over, further away from his childhood friend, who frowns. _What the hell?_ But it becomes clear when Reiner makes his way around his back, motions for Annie to sit on the space left by Armin's absence.

'W—Wha—?!' Eren stammers, blushes. Flushes darker as Annie actually takes her seat next to him, avoiding his eyes, and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. He can't recall when he'd last seen her up close. Given recent events, he can't blame her for keeping her distance (although she's always done that anyway).

Would she be upset if he died?

Kinda glad, maybe?

Eren can't think about this too much. Reiner winks at him, churning his guts. Did Mikasa see that? Armin _definitely_ did, cause he just fucking giggled.

_Shit._ Why'd Reiner have to make this so awkward? it's not like he ever needed a wingman to speak to Annie anyway...

'Finally seen the light?' Eren jokes, immediately hating himself when she looks up at him with wide eyes. So the delivery could have been more sophisticated, but he_ is_ genuinely curious about her change of heart. And worried, if he's being honest. Annie never expressed big hopes for the future of humanity. She was always content simply floating by, even if she is cognisant of the flaws of her environment.

'Annie,' Reiner nudges, too sharply to be friendly, 'He's _kidding_. Loosen up a bit.'

Eren instinctively places a hand on Annie's back. She can't jerk away. 'No, I'm sorry,' he says, 'I shouldn't have said that.'

Trembling, Annie snaps with unnecessary bite, 'I don't need you to fight my battles for me.'

'Huh?! That's not what I—' pulls his hand away, as if burnt. But she looks hurt, and so he doesn't think twice about putting his hand back (even though it'd scare the shit out of him in other circumstances). She looks over her shoulder in acknowledgement of his touch, then those piercing eyes are on him, searching. He wants to kiss her _badly_. Settles instead for words, 'I'm glad you're here.'

'You don't sound like you mean that.'

He shrugs, feigning composure, 'I—,' blushing, turns his face away, 'I want you to be safe.'

The corners of her lips tug upwards. She lowers her voice so that no one else can hear, 'Don't you want the same for your friends?'

Eren scowls, 'They won't die.'

'How can you be so sure?'

'They... They just won't. We'll all live long and happy lives.'

That smarts; Annie returns to her food, much to Reiner's chagrin. He snarls, as though revolted by the sight of her, which Eren catches sight of. Eren shakes his head in an effort to intimate that _there's no need to pressure her, this is awkward anyway_: and Reiner looks confused for a second before he relents. He tries for a while to pull Annie back into conversation. But they all move on, talking about nothing out of the ordinary, and the one consolation is that Eren has Annie beneath his palm the entire dinner.

Soon, they're told to finish up. Back to their bunks for sleep; tomorrow will be more gruelling than anything they've experienced prior.

As they make their way out of the hall, the men and women diverge. They have separate sleeping arrangements. Eren gets a cell; at least it's on the way to where the rest of the men are headed. He can walk with his friends for a few minutes.

Armin tells him, 'You're kind of special to Annie, I think.'

Eren grins, 'You think so?'

'Yep. She can't help but look at you sometimes,' a pause— laughs, 'When she thinks she's being sneaky.'

Eren falters, 'Really? I should've paid more attention to how I was eating...'

At that, Armin smiles, 'Relax. I doubt she minds.'

* * *

**...**

* * *

Each year, the Survey Corps set low expectations for the volume of fresh graduates they're able to recruit. It's not like many stay anyway; most everyone dies miserably in action. Consequently, hardly any funding is allocated by the government for accommodation. The barracks are therefore unprepared for the number of bodies this time around, especially for the housing for women.

It's the only explanation for why Mikasa, Sasha, Krista, Ymir, and Annie are canned with one another in what is obviously meant to be a two-person bedroom. Stick as many bunk beds as they'd like, but where's the floor gone? Wouldn't be so bad if two out of the five occupants didn't hate each other's guts. Or that's just how Sasha feels, for the tension is palpable and her instincts are never wrong. It's stressful to have to live with a thick atmosphere. She doesn't know how Krista and Ymir can remain so cool about this.

With those two on edge, it won't be long until—

Annie bristles, momentarily taking a break from organising her identical hoodies to take a whiff at the air. She scoffs, 'Did a rat fucking _die_ in here?'

Mikasa shrugs, continues folding her clothes with killer precision, 'Depends. Did you manage to kill one before the rest of us got here?'

'If I did, I wouldn't out myself. I understand the importance of burying a corpse.'

Ymir snorts, 'For fuck's sake, bury the hatchet, ladies! And Sasha!' she spears said girl, who's crouched suspiciously over her bag, with her foot, 'Don't hide meat in here. It's disgusting.'

'Oh,' Annie grimaces, 'Fuck.'

From one of the top bunks, Krista chimes in to reassure Sasha that it isn't a problem this evening. And that Ymir just likes conflict, so there's no need to take her digs too seriously. Sasha counters with a not-so-clever excuse, which Ymir again fails to react positively to. The three of them go back-and-forth for a while until there's a knock at the door that silences the room.

'Kill the lamps in twenty,' says an unfamiliar voice from the other side of the door, 'Insubordination will cost you breakfast.'

Sasha need not hear more. In a flash, she's somehow managed to get into her pyjamas. The rest follow suit, minus Annie, who's frozen in place from the realisation that she's going to have to go to bed grimy and gross, with four other grimy and gross girls. Years of immersion and she still can't get used to this society's indifference towards personal hygiene. Are they not conscientious of how _bad_ everything smells?

'How're you guys so fit?' Sasha scowls, poking woefully at her stomach.

Mikasa shrugs, 'I like to keep moving.'

Ymir snorts, 'Not by smuggling cold cuts in after hours, that's for sure.' Annie, who hasn't move an inched, catches her eye. It's getting hot. Way too hot for their uniform. 'Hey, are you shy?' Ymir teases, bringing Annie to the present, 'You know you don't have anything we haven't seen before, right?'

Krista sighs, 'Ymir...' then turns to Annie with a smile, 'Don't mind her. Maybe change in the restrooms? They're down the hall, to the right.'

'You've changed in front of us before,' Ymir presses, 'What are you being so stuck-up about?'

Krista makes a rumbling noise in her throat, too soft to be a growl, 'Stop it, Ymir! Annie might be having a hard time right now...'

'Yes,' Mikasa sets her eyes on Annie, 'Annie must've hit her head to go against everything she's been saying prior graduation. Did you get lost on your way to the Military Police?'

Annie bares teeth, 'Funny.'

But she doesn't waste another second. She gets up, takes her shit, and leaves the room.

* * *

**...**

* * *

Eren finds his underground cell ridiculously lonely— and he's never had an issue with that sentiment before, not really, for he's always had people care for him. He's lucky, and even throughout the years, he's never been left to rot in his own self-destructive ideals. Yet when it's nighttime and the air is cold, it isn't Mikasa or Armin he thinks of; it's Annie.

She let him touch her all throughout supper. Probably meant nothing to her, so why is he so giddy about it?

He's about to go to bed when someone enters his room. Initially, he assumes that it's Hange coming by to squeeze in an authorised experiment (as she does every other night), but he's surprised to see Annie instead. She's dressed casually, out of her uniform, which she's carrying tucked between her waist and elbow. There's an unsteadiness in her gait that raises his brows, but he won't point it out. He's just excited to see her.

'Hey.'

'Hi,' Annie replies in that deep, serpentine voice of hers. She stares at him intently as her hands run up the length of the metal bars that separate them. 'Care for some company?'

'Hmm...' he gestures to the cell door, 'It's unlocked.'

She nods, makes her way in. He feigns disinterest as she approaches, plops down beside him.

'So...' Annie (surprisingly) starts (it's awkward), 'I always knew you'd get locked up. Thought it'd just be under different pretences.'

He pokes at her ribs, 'Haha. Very funny.'

'Hm.'

She shifts in her seat. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't take notice. But it's Annie; cold, calculated Annie (or at least she tries to be). It's unintelligent for him to presume that the slightest of movement from her is insignificant.

Eren clears his throat, 'Can't sleep?'

'Kind of.'

'Yeah, you...' he gives her a friendly squeeze on the knee, 'You look tired.'

'It's my default face, Eren. If you don't like it, I can leave.'

'No, don't—' he catches her wrist, 'I like your face.' Annie falters, and his cheeks go hot. Trying for flattery, he continues, 'You're really pretty.'

'You're such a moron,' and she whips her hand back, singed by a feeling she doesn't comprehend. He laughs, low, cups her jaw. Beneath her lashes, she studies him, expecting a child-like fascination with the other sex. Instead, she sees that he's observing her with a darkness in his gaze, obscured by the shadows cast by the dying flames of the torches lined up on the walls. She makes the mistake of letting her attention jump to his mouth; he closes the distance, kisses her so softly, that when her lids shut she wonders if he's really there.

Fisting his shirt, pulling him close. Who's in control?

She yanks him back by his hair. Panting. Fails to get the first word in.

'I'd die for you.'

Her gut coils, 'Shut up. Don't talk like that.'

'I would, though. You don't even know,' he thumbs over the contour of her lips, dips his finger past her teeth. It's her first real taste of him. She's suddenly hyperaware of how parched she is, how inviting his mouth looks. Her heart threatens to punch through her ribs when he leans closer, the sheer of heat of him distinctly felt. He dips a hand between her legs, cupping her with feather-light care. She jolts, trembling while his fingers stroke her through the fabric. It has her whimpering.

'Oh, Annie—,' he rakes his teeth along her cheek, 'Fuck, I've never seen you like this.'

Annie lets out an uncharacteristic giggle: _that's my line_, she wants to say. But he's heard enough and is overcome with a confidence that has him trailing kisses all over. His teeth hover too close to her neck. In any other circumstance with any other person, she'd kick till her opponent was blue, although she's highly cognisant of the fact that in this moment, he's anything_ but_ the enemy. Because for the first time, she's made to understand: _this is what affection should feel like_. This is what it feels like to be held and cared for, without fear of a beating.

Her chest twists. She pulls away, tilts her head so she doesn't have to meet his gaze. And with the certainty of a ghost kiss, his loving touch brings her back to him.

In this dimly lit room that obscures, the way he sees her is unmistakable; like she's made of glass, like she won't throw a punch in just to see his face warp. As if she's so precious, the fire licking at his bloodlust dissipates, paves the way for something more hopeful.

He's got beautiful eyes— like the overgrown green of the forest, like the ocean in the afternoon.

'Did I do something wrong?'

'No,' her voice cracks, she fucking _hates_ herself—, 'I just— I'm scared.'

A half-lie. She _is_ frightened, just not of him.

His hand moves to her thigh. When he speaks, he sounds uncertain, 'It won't... hurt.'

'How would you know?'

He leans backwards a bit. Gives her a quick peck on the lips, aware that it isn't _enough_, that she's teetering on the precipice and only he can give her what she wants. Under normal circumstances, she'd be too arrogant to give him so much as a hint of what he's done to her. This isn't normal—_ she_ isn't normal, and neither is he, and they can taste stars if he'd just_ do it_ already.

He doesn't.

She can feel his heart hammering in his chest, the rhythmic beating bouncing off the walls in a silent plea for more. She can hear it, too; all the things _he_ doesn't say.

His lashes flutter. 'Why didn't you join the Military Police?'

'I don't know.'

'No, but—' he nips at her ear, she trembles, '— thought you wanted to save yourself.'

'I do. I will,' Annie feels the heat rush to her face. Reflexively, his hands come up to his shoulders, neither drawing him in or pushing him away. She's giving herself the illusion of control, as if she has any say in what he's doing. (Except she knows she has all the power, and she has no idea what to do with it).

His fingers dig into her thighs, 'I want you to live a long life.'

Annie stiffens. What does that mean?

Seemingly oblivious to her wrecked nerves, he pushes his weight onto her; she buries her face into the dip of his neck, raking her nails over broad plain of his back. He embraces her, rocks their bodies together— she presses her tongue to the artery of his neck, shuddering at the steady pulse.

'I want you to have children. And to get married, and—' Eren lowers his tone, '— to grow old with someone who loves you.'

Annie recoils sharply. Her eyes are glassy. Voice small: 'You don't love me?'

'I do. I love you,' breathless, brushing his lips against hers, 'So much.'

So strange. He makes her want to cry.

He hadn't even asked if she loved him back.

Her chest feels like it's going to collapse. She's shaking all over, not fully understanding why, and her hands move of their own accord. She palms his groin, follows a hard length down the side of his pants— forgets about Marley or her father because they have _nothing_ to do with what she wants in this moment. She's never even wanted anyone before. However, grasping a forbidden part of him, knowing what the could do to become uniquely each other's, ignites an excitement in her heart that she hasn't felt since she was a child.

'Hey,' he catches her wrist, effectively putting a stop to her fondling, 'We shouldn't.'

Annie detests how needy she sounds, 'Why not?'

'I don't want to hurt you.'

The notion confuses her, hits her like a blow to the head. She won't get the chance to ask him for clarification.

'Bad kids!' Hange enters, followed by a weary Moblit, 'Miss Leonhart, don't you know it's lights out!?'

* * *

**...**

* * *

Hange offers—_ demands_— that she accompany Annie to her shared room.

Annie curses her rotten luck. She's not a chatty person, and doesn't do well with bombastic conversation. In a way, it ends up not being so bad. Hange mostly talks to herself, prattling on about a new discovery or hypothesis she can't wait to put to the test, glancing back over her shoulder for an affirmative nod from Annie. She's inadvertently garnered respect from this officer for what was apparently a brave rendezvous.

'It's interesting that you have no qualms about setting foot into the same space as a Titan, especially unsupervised.'

Annie remains silent. Better not to incriminate herself.

* * *

**Thank you so much for reading this chapter! Especially considering that the original_ chapter 5_ has been deleted, and that this is my second attempt. I'm sorry I deleted it without warning, but I really didn't know how to let you know about what I was going to. But thank you for being patient, and for being so understanding about it. I will also rewrite _chapter 4_, but the plot will remain the same. **

**I deleted the original chapter because I had trouble deciding where to go with this story, which is a problem I've spoken about before. I think because I tried to juggle this and _Obscurum_, some ideas from the latter were bleeding into this one. **

**Thank you for your understanding! I hope that you like the events of this chapter.**


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